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2014.02.21 - There's Another
Harry's. There are days and times where this bar is busy. And there are days and times where it isn't. And today...? Right now...? It isn't that busy. Oh sure, some of the regulars are here. Some at tables. Some at booths. Some at the bar. But it's definitely not crowded tonight. In fact, it's entirely possible for some people to have an entirely private. And yet someone who isn't exactly a regular comes wandering in. Someone who has been here before, once or twice, but those visits are few and far between. This someone even sniffs the air as she enters, making it look almost as if she's trying to find a specific scent. But then again, considering that it /IS/ Laura Kinney, she may very well be tracking someone based on their scent. Sitting at the bar Logan sipped away at a bottle of an imported beer. The bottle of beer was in his right hand. He worked away at the drink in his right hand. Between sips he puffed away at a cigar. Dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt that clung to his muscles he was content to be alone. Tunes came from one of those juke box rip offs in a corner. People were having conversations, drinking away, it was easy to just blend into the background because everyone else was too busy paying attention o their own worlds to notice him. Setting down the bottle he took another puff then ashed into the tray. Most bars were smoke free but Logan was going to smoke damn it. Also, who had the courage to tell him he couldn't smoke? The owner made a good cut of change and people that spoke up were met with an angry look that silenced them. And if the police or any other authorities came and tried to get Logan to stoop smoking, they'd probably regret it in so many ways that it's not funny. But that's besides the point. Instead, as Laura locks her gaze on Logan, she simply walks directly towards him, dodging glances and patrons as she does, before she sits on a stool to his side. Then once parked, she says a few simple words... Or words and a few letters, that could cause a bit of a reaction. "Weapon X I I I is active and went rogue from the program that created him." "Keep talkin'," Logan said low and kept smoking the cigar. He suddenly lossed the thirst for a beer. The cigar kept him calm. His blue eyes looked back to Laura then moved forward for a moment. "He is also French now, complete with bad accent." is said in Lauras usual tone that's completely devoid of emotion. But if it were anyone else, that would almost be a joke. Right? "He claims that Weapon X was part of a larger Weapons Plus program. That they were all inspired by Captain America, who was retroactively considered Weapon Zero. He claims that the X in Weapon X is the number ten, thus you are from the tenth program, but probably the most successful weapon made. He claims to be weapon thirteen. Calls himself Fantomex. Has a flying disk ship. Has illusion based powers so you can never see, hear, smell, or feel where he really is." Rubbing his knuckles nervously Logan listened as Laura explained the origin as the Weapon Plus program. His blue eyes looked at her, "How many things is Cap connected to?" Rumors swirled about so many programs being connected to the Super Soldier Serum. "I think Cap being Weapon Zero is more honorary," he gruffed. Details came in about this Fantomex. A man with a bad French accent that was undectable and had a weird ship, Logan didn't like him already. "What was the intent of Weapon XIII? What was he made from?" Laura knew so much, Logan wondered if she had that intel somehow. "How does that make you feel knowing we're just numbers to them?" And here's where what ever Laura has to say gets... Strange. "He was made by a million years of compressed time and forced evolution." Whatever that means. Then there's a shrug. "Captain America may have been. I do not know." Then well... Laura just looks directly at Logan. While not unemotional, she still looks... Detached. Emotionally detached. "I am X-23. I have always been just a number to them. This just means that I am a different number." "What do we do?" Logan asked unsure what to do with all the info. Weapon XIII or Fantomex was off the rails now. It sounded like the administration had a third monster to deal with. Why should Logan have cared? Again... There's a shrug? "You find him. He is looking for you. He wants to talk to you..." A card with contact into is placed on the counter between the two of them. "He could of killed me, he did not. He could of kidnapped me. He did not. Instead he transported me away from an attempt by someones unknown to harm me, and brought me to Central Park. he also said that if you want to bring me in on whatever he wants to talk to you about, that is your choice." Taking the card he nodded, "I'll give you info on when. Come suited up and ready," Logan said in a very serious tone. His blue eyes met hers for a second. Part of him feared what looking at her would have done with his damaged psyche. Laura was still like a daughter to him but she was the one that pushed away. And right now he was scared to get close to anyone unless they had the means to heal the psychic trauma. When it comes to trauma, Laura is not someone who talks about it. Instead, as Logan says that he'll call her, there's a nod. That is before she says... "There's more." Giving Laura a nod he moved a hand slightly to get her to keep talking. Bringing the cigar back up to his lips he took another puff, ashed and took a drink of his beer. "Out with it." And it comes out. But what comes out doesn't make much sense. At least not to Laura. "Weapons twelve through sixteen were created to exterminate mutants. He claimed that Weapon Fourteen is active and in New York. But he claimed to be confused about Weapon Fourteen. He also referred to fourteen as both a 'her', and a 'them'." And with that said, the 'clone' goes silent as she just sits there, looking emotionally detached. "Are you worried you could be Fourteen?" Logan asked looking at her with the first bit of concern he's shown this evening. His blue eyeslooked at his daughter by bond, and by blood technically. It was an avenue of thought to pursue. There is a slight shake of her head, as Laura admits, "No. I am not. I am X-23. Not X I V. I am concerned that it is an unknown. A threat." She makes a fist with both hands as they rest on the bar. In fact it almost looks like her claws are about to pop for a moment or two before she opens her hands back up. "One that I may have to eliminate, before it can harm the others." "We," he corrected her and then finished off the cigar. His blue eyes looked at her, "We try turning it first. It's like us. We can still be redeemed. They can too." There is simply a nod from Laura at this. What goes unsaid is that as much as she wants to believe it, that it might be possible, she knows it also might not be. After all, she knows how much of a threat she is, and can be as well to those around her. "I'll tell you when we go out to meet Fantom, verify his stuff and go out," he gave the the woamn a nod then looked at her, "I've seen that silent look. Youre redeemable too." "Fantomex." Laura says, making that small correction. That is before she hops off the chair, and glances at the exit. "Tell me that the next time I run into Trigger Scent." Category:Log